


HOTEL SERIES 6: CASA DEL CHALAMET

by BLUEFICTION2



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: HOTEL SERIES, Hammer Sex, M/M, POV Armie Hammer, POV Timothée Chalamet, Puppet from HELL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:08:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25353745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BLUEFICTION2/pseuds/BLUEFICTION2
Summary: HOTEL Series 6.1 CASA DEL CHALAMET has Armie showing up at Tim's place for some much needed R&R.____"I wanted to grab you by the ruffles and fuck you right there." Armie Hammer quote
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. 6.1 CASA DEL CHALAMET

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy makes a date with a Hammer as Armie shows up at Tim's NYC apartment for some much needed R&R.
> 
> "I wanted to grab you by the ruffles and fuck you right there."

_____

■ Disclaimer: this is a fictional depiction of the two actors (and other peripheral characters) mentioned within the following storyline.  
_____  
___

■ HOTEL 6.1 Casa del Chalamet  
___  
_____

■ NYC 9am  
___

■ Armie  
___

"Look," I say, touching both walls; reaching out to show how small the place is, just as I do every fucking time I'm here.

"Don't make fun of where I live."

"I'm not making fun, just stating the obvious. And how the fuck did you make it home without anyone finding out?"

"I'll never tell. But I'm not like you. You walk through an airport and everyone knows you're there. You can't do anything quietly because you're bigger than life."

"The pitfalls of being me."  
___

■ 18 Hours earlier  
___

■ Tim  
___

"So what are you doing later?" I ask.

"Hold on a sec." And there's a full minute of dead air. "Ok I'm back."

"Where the fuck are you?"

"Going through customs."

"For which country?"

"Hold on again."

I can hear muffled voices and a loud bang.

"Are you still there? I dropped you."

"Why are you calling if you're so busy?"

"Because grasshopper, I won't be able to call you after I'm done here."

"So you're calling to say goodbye?"

"Not exactly." He says.

Then no one's there.

I guess he ended the call. And well that was the end if it.

___

___

■ Armie  
___

The apartment is dark when I get in, but I have a key, and opening the door carefully, I come to the realization he's not home.

The little shit went out.  
___

And he's fucking blitzed out of his mind (two hours later mind you), when he finally crawls into bed.

I try not to move and scare the shit out of him, but it really doesn't matter because he's snoring by the time his head hits the pillow.

And there I am; laying there, buck naked, hand on my cock, and he's fucking snoring!  
___  
___

"MuubraYaNeelyNeer?" Tim mumbles into the bedding.

"Hello beautiful." I say, turning on the light.

Which is actually funny, because his face is all creased, his clothes rumpled and his shoes (yes he's still fucking wearing his shoes) smell suspiciously like vomit.

"Tibbbrisit?"

"Somewhere around 2 am."

"Neely?"

"Yep."

"Not midnight?" He sits up, his face finally free of the pillow, leaning in to kiss.

"Here." I say, grabbing his hand to drag him towards his bathroom.

"And take off your shoes first." I stop him at the door.

Tim grabs the door frame, not too steadily I might add, to toe off his shoes.

Where I immediately drop them in his trash.

"Hey! Those were designer!"

Now he's awake!  
___  
___

"I jerked off to your Brioni ad." Tim says, leaning back against me amidst the suds.

"And I saw your promo pics for Little Women." I say softly into his curls.

"What did you think?"

And I'm wondering if he really needs my validation.

"I wanted to grab you by the ruffles and fuck you right there." I state.

I did, I still do and always will.

Burying my head into his hair, I breath him in, content with just holding him for now.

"God that sounds so dirty. And hot." He tries to splash me but it's mostly ineffective because of my quick reflexes and manacled hold.

So with one hand gripping his wrists, I lean back to take a long pull on the joint before kissing it into his mouth.  
___

"I love this." He sighs.

"What?"

"This."

His hands try to move in my hold.

"Yep, it's pretty fucking wonderful." I agree closing my eyes, finally able to relax for the first time in --

"How long has it been?"

Tim turns to look at me, "Since Cannes?"

"This hotel hoping is for shit." I open one eye to look at him.

"This isn't a hotel."

"Do you currently live here?" I ask.

"No."

"Have you brought home any groceries in the last four or five months?"

He shakes his head against me.

"Do you currently have most of your clothes in your dresser or your suitcase?"

"Fuck! I guess it is a hotel!"

"Casa Del --" I pause, kissing him lightly, "Chalamet."

And while Casa del Mar is decadent luxury. This decidedly is not.

Although having access to this massive bathtub is a bonus.  
___

I let him kiss me back now that he's squeaky clean.

"What is this stuff?" I ask, releasing his wrists to scoop up suds from the bath.

"I don't know, something I grabbed from --"

"From?"

"Shit. Another hotel."

"It's nice." I shrug, smelling the foam. "Peaches."

"Yeah, they leave peach stuff all over the fucking place now. Are we just going to talk and soak in the tub the whole time you're here?"

"Would that be so bad?" Shit, I'm tired.

"Not bad. But fucking weird."

"I'm going to be here three whole days."

"How is that even possible?"

"Like you, I plan to disappear off the earth for awhile."

And disappearing off the earth sounds fucking good right now.

  
I reach down to stroke him through the peachy water as Tim turns around in the tub, inching forward with his legs bent over top of my thighs.

"You're --"

"Twenty-three remember?"

"Thank fucking God for that!"  
___  
___

"Why did you show up here?" He asks when we finally leave the bath.

"You sent out the bat-signal."

"Bat-signal?"

I nod.

"When did I do that?" He seems confused when he probably should know better.

"Yesterday."

He's still not getting it, so I'm going to stand by my assessment that it's alcohol poisoning that's numbing his brain.

Picking up his long sleeved shirt from the floor, I toss it at him.

"Fuck. I guess I did." Tim catches the shirt, examining the striped sleeves.

"Bat-signal. I like that term, but isn't it a bit --" He hesitates.

"Nah, I'm good with it. And it applies."

"So everytime one of us is photographed in public wearing something with racing stripes, the other has to travel across oceans -- continents -- deserts -- to fuck the other?"

"The more the stripes, the more urgent the signal." I tell him. But then I go on to concede, "But there can be mutual fucking involved."

I'll give him that because it sounds like a fucking brilliant idea to me.

"Big of you." Tim smirks.

Then he tackles me, pushing me backwards onto the bed, with wiry arms that are a hell of a lot stronger than they look.

"Please be gentle." I laugh.

But his mouth hovering over me is far too busy to answer.

As one arm loops under my thigh, pushing it up towards my chest, I open for him to slide his mouth down -- there. Yeah.

And while it's usually Tim who is groaning incoherently, I find myself caught up in his oral talents as his tongue slides inside.

Swirling around, pushing in as I press open, lips nuzzling the rim, creating suction as he tongue-fucks my asshole.

His hands now hold onto my ankles, keep my legs steady; pushing them up and back, so both knees are now almost touching my shoulders, where he tips me further back, my ass rising up off the bed. I could feel violated if it wasn't so fucking hot.

And I'm teetering on the verge --

... ...

... ...

And just when I can't hold back anymore.

Tim's body covers mine.

Wide cock sliding home.

The pinch.

The stretch.

Combine with overwhelming sensations.

Head sliding over my prostrate.

Does.

Me.

In.  
___

My arms wrapping around.

Grounding us.

I fly.  
___

But he's not done.

Pounding.

Pounding.

Fucking -- pounding.

And.

I.

Just.

Can't !!!!!!!!  
____  
____

■ 6 am NYC  
____

■ Armie  
____

"That's quite the alarm system you have."

I sweep my arm, indicating his luggage piled in front of the door. I'd almost killed myself, falling over them when I entered his apartment.

"I wasn't expecting you."

"I called from the airport."

"How is a three minute call, two of which I spent waiting for you to come back on the line, any advance warning you're on your way here?"

"Three minutes?"

"Do you want proof?"

"No." Fuck, three minutes. It seemed longer.

"Didn't I say I was here."

"Not that I remember."

"Alcohol poisoning, either that or --"

"Or?"

"Never mind."

"No, I want to hear this."

"Do you want to chitchat or fuck some more?"

"Well if you're going to put it that way." Tim reaches for my cock and there's no way I can resist him.  
___  
___

■ Noon   
___

Laying there, just now waking up, or more precisely coming to, I ask Tim something that's been on my mind for quite awhile.

"So, have you been fucking other guys?" I'm curious. Anxious. Whatever the fuck.

"No." But it's said quietly. Too quietly. Something's up.

"Holy fuck! You have a goodie drawer!"

"No!" He protests, his voice a little too loud for the room.

"No, what?"

"It's kind of a toolbox." He's almost blushing.

"Toolbox? That's fitting."

And Tim for some reason, keeps looking everywhere but me.

"Well if the sex toy fits." I laugh. But now I really want to know. "So what is it? Rubber? Silicone? Acrylic? Glass? Don't tell me you have a giant glass dildo you shove up your ass!"

"Not exactly." He says quietly.

"Well what's it made of then?"

"Wood."

I give him a look that conveys many things.

Where is it? I've got to see this. Show me now!

But when he pulls the metal box from under his bed, it's not a dildo he takes out but a real honest to God hammer.

And I laugh. I can't help it. I'm grabbing my sides, ready to fall over laughing.  
___

Calming down, I look right at him, his eyes coming back to rest on mine, and repeat the words I just uttered, only with a much more serious intent.

"Show me." I breathe.

He's embarrassed, hesitant and finally resigned.

Taking hold of the hammer, I slide a rubber over the wooden handle, lubing it generously.

"Lie back." I say, taking a seat close to the bed. "Do everything -- slowly."

FUCK! I want to record this but there's no way he'll let me.  
___

Tim lies back, one foot extended over the end of the bed, the other leg bent at the knee so I have an unobstructed view as he presses his wet fingers inward; his hole winking to accept them.

I lean forward to squirt more lube onto his fingers, watching as they slide inward, oh so effortlessly; getting him ready for the show.

Making me HARD.

And I hand over the wide, blunt end of the handle.

Not looking away as he presses it into his hole.  
___

WE GASP  
___

The end breaching.

Breaching.

Is so fucking hot.

The slide in and out.

Slow at first.

Then faster.

Deeper.

He moans as he watches me. As I watch him.

And I can't help myself.

"Can I?" I ask, getting up to stand over him.

"Lie down with me." He says, rolling to his side.

And I stretch out behind him.

My chest to his back.  
___

Reaching down between us to grip the cold metal, I put my lips to his neck; connecting as I take over and begin fucking him with the wide handle.

One hand reaching around to touch. Stroking. Stroking.

One hand on hard metal. The other on hard cock.

And he shudders beautifully within my arms.  
___

When I think we're both ready for this, I roll him onto his back, one knee bent, much the same way he started out. And standing up, I walk around to his head to slide a pillow underneath.

Tipping his head back.

As I straddle him.

69-ing  
___

I press inward, my cock nudging his lips.

A little more.

More.

Yeah, there.

And crawling completely up over him, my own mouth runs downward to his cock.

Licking. Swiping my tongue around and down his shaft.

Then opening to swallow him down.

Reciprocating motion for motion.

I then reach under his bent leg to touch the cold metal capping his asshole.

Tapping. Tapping.

Grasping it firmly, I pull it out. Then plunge it home.

He cries out, his throat massaging my cock.

So I do it again.

And

He's

Almost

THERE .... .... .....

His cock.

Shooting deepy into my throat.  
  


And --

I --

Swallow.  
___

And I'm there too.

Timmy grabbing my ass.

Holding me to him.

Pulsing. Pulsing.

He swallows around me.

And we're both --

DONE.  
___  
___

■ 2pm  
___

We're both so fucked out that I can barely move.

Tim is currently passed out on his stomach, the firm handle still lodged in his ass. He hasn't moved in more than an hour.

Le petit mort.

Le grand - petit mort.

I touch his shoulder, waking him.

My other hand gravitates to the metal protrusion.

Pulling.

Carefully.

Oh so carefully.

He groans. But it's only in response to waking.

Holding the length of the hammer, I measure it against me, and I'm pleased to be close in approximation.

Maybe a little bigger. Sure bigger (why not).

Tim peers up at me with one beautiful green eye.

So I impart the best advice I've got, "If you're trying to replicate my dick you're going to need a bigger Hammer."

But he's back asleep. Jet lag. And I know the feeling.  
__

I crawl back in bed with him.

There's no hurry.

We've got time.

We've got 3 days.

_____

■ FIN - HOTEL 6.1 CASA DEL CHALAMET  
_____


	2. 6.2 HOTEL DEL CHALAMET - Don't Tread on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie and Tim come upon a treasure trove of porn and one particularly interesting video.

_____  
___

Disclaimer: this is a fictional depiction of the two actors (and any other peripheral characters) mentioned within the following storyline.  
___  
___

■ 6.2 HOTEL DEL CHALAMET - Day 2 - DON'T TREAD ON ME  
___

■ Armie:  
______

We wake up. Correction. I wake up to look over at Tim who is not so serenely passed out beside me.

So nudging one skinny leg with my foot, I get right down to what's on my mind.

"If I'm going to be staying here for any length of time we're going to have to either go out to a gym or you're going to have to install a speed-bag."

"You're staying here?" He mumbles.

"That's what you got from this? I need to get to a gym."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He's fucking cranky this morning.

Maybe it was that stiff hammer up his ass last night.

And an even stiffer Hammer up there again early this morning. Whatever.

"I need to work out." I tell him.

"I'll give you all the workout you need." Tim smiles, indicating he's clearly ready for more.

"Not THAT kind of workout."

"A speed-bag eh?"

"Better than nothing, and you have the room."

I look around his miniscule apartment, taking in the decor -- or lack there of (the kid really needs to hire a designer), as I figure out there's got to be room. Somewhere.

"Speed-bag. That sounds so suggestive. And well, dirty." But he's smiling.

"Are you saying I like smacking around someone's balls?"

"I'm sure you have a few candidates lined up for that."

"The line is too long and frankly complicated to get into specifics."

Tim's hand moves; it's the only part of him that seems up to doing anything right now.

I can change that.

I reach out, guiding his hand over my cock.

Where as Tim seems to be following his own agenda.

His hand -- his palm cupping my balls -- fingers rolling them back and forth. And I wait for the inevitable comment about CGI or some shit like that, but the only thing to come out of his mouth is his tongue.

Licking his top lip. Moving to one side.

Then his signiture lip bite.

And that undoes me.  
___

"Oomph."

Not actually meaning to squish him when I roll over, the urgency of the situation outweighs any forethought.

So pinning him down, I pull both of his hands up over his head.

My mouth licking his neck.

His shoulder.

Landing in his armpit.

I bury my nose -- THERE.

Right there.

And the sound that comes out of me is part sigh, part groan.  
___

I trying to go slow, but three days is only three fucking days - and with one of them gone, it's going to be hard to cram (pun intended) everything in.

Fuck it's going to be even harder to leave. Because the longer I stay, the more gut wrenching the goodbye.

Tim groans when I move my mouth over his chest, and then --

Down.

Further.

Down

Releasing his arms, my hands grasp his waist.

My mouth.

Opens.

It's good that I hold him as sweet Teemy tries to take over.

His ass rising from the bed.

His cock -- hard again with the resilience of youth.

Pressing into my throat.

And I want to make this quick.

Plowing two fingers into him, he comes with a roar.

His hands clasping my head.

Cock plunging deeper.

Deeper.

I taste nothing.

Then I do -- as a slight regurge bubbles up.

And he's so fucking done.  
___

■  
___

"Hey, you got back before me." Tim's a chipper lad after his morning of getting his dick sucked, then heading out to fraternize with the masses.

It's like he's been away for so long that they (and him too) need this contact.

"They already know you're here." I'm sure he has girls, women, boys and men, and probably dogs too, keeping track of his every movement.

"So?" He can be sooo naive sometimes.

"I'm flying under the radar. Remember?" I remind him, giving a look that says, I'd rather have stayed in and if I could have avoided going out, I would have.

"Why did you bother going out if you didn't want to?"

"Because grasshopper, I needed to do shit."

He hates when I call him that, making it a mandate that I do.

Tim looks around, his gaze stopping at a box in the corner.

"You bought a speed-bag?" I nod. "And what else?"

"Entertainment." I tell him.

"I'm not entertaining enough for you?"

Fuck! He's adorable when he pouts.

So I kiss him.

Hands cupping his face, I plant a quick peck on his forehead.

"Did you bring food?" He asks, his stomach growling.

"Better still, I cooked." I gesture over to the stove; the kitchenette a mere three steps from the livingroom. (How does he live like this?) So I make a big production of how much I slaved over the meal.

"Is all that food for us?" Tim asks indicating the plates of food on the counter.

"I figure we can live off of leftovers while I'm here."

"Good plan."  
___

■  
___

"So what kind of entertainment are we looking at?"

Tim stretches out on his ratty sofa, while I perch on the arm, and because I know what has occured there, I'm reluctant to luxuriate in what can only be described as it's ripeness.

Also because I doubt he's bothered to have it steam cleaned after the last time I was here.

"I downloaded porn --." I say.

Tim gives me a cynical look.

"It promises to be, how the fuck did they put it? Oh yeah, a peachy delight."

"You didn't!"

"It's not bad if you can forgive them for calling you Eeeel-io."

Fuck, they can't even get his character's name right.

"Did you watch it first?"

"Just the preview."

"And?"

"They fucking used canned peaches!"

"I don't think I want to see that."

"There's more. In another one they made Anchise into a hot gardener."

"Eeew."

"It's not bad as far as that type of thing goes."

"Okay, I'll bite. What happens with the gardener?"

"He has his holes landscaped and excavated." I pause for effect, "Then they double team him."

"Wow. Is there a plot to this?" Silly boy.

"What? Are you planning on writing a review?"

He shakes his unruly curls.

"So, do you want to see this or not?"

"Okay, go ahead."

"Said Luca at our first rehearsal." I deadpan, wiggling my eyebrows.

"Should we get naked first?" Tim pulls off his shirt.

"You asked him that too, if I remember correctly."

"Fucker!" I end up with his shirt in my face.

But only because Tim needs a head start, running into the bedroom.  
___

■  
___

"The acting is for shit." The resident film critic announces.

Flopping over into his stomach on his bed, he pulls a pillow under his chin.

"Maybe turning off the sound will help." I mute the action.

"You think?" He looks back at me, his attitude skeptical at best.

"No. But it can't hurt."

We watch as the gardener is approached by the two leads.

The younger one taking his hoe (real subtle), while the older, taller one backs him against a peach tree.

He then pulls out a length of rope, tying the gardeners hands in front of him.

Tim laughs but says no more.

Smart lad.

The actors may have been chosen for their endowments but their rope tying skills are for shit.  
___

"Well that was anti-climactic." Tim says after the first feature.

"What's this?" He asks when I cue up the next one. "There's more?"

"Just something I want you to be aware of."

He looks back at my serious tone.

I motion forwards as the credits show up on the screen.

"Holy fuck!"

I'm not sure if he's upset, amazed, flattered, or all of the above.

"He looks nothing like me."

"Probably a good thing. Speaking of -- he's hung like a racehorse."

"Elio Chalamet." Tim laughs, grabbing the remote to shut off the action.

"Don't you want to watch."

"No." He says.

"Well what do you want to do?" A leading question if ever there was one.  
___

Tim gets up to rummage through his pockets.

"I saw something, well somebody we know, the other day." He tells me.

"Okay, I'll bite. Who?"

"Well that's the thing. It's kind of disturbing." He turns around to hold up his pink iPhone.

"And you're bringing this up, why?"

"Because it's something we did in the movie - but more."

"And you want to try it? It must be fucking kinky."

Tim taps his phone and a video pops up, but muted, because with sound it's -.

HOLY FUCK! Just leave the sound off.

"Oh my God, his publicist must be shitting himself! Who in his fucking right mind would post something like this?" I laugh like a banshee.

"That's the thing, even though he's deleted it, it's everywhere. But there's no going back on this, and his wife kind of threw him under the bus."

"Figures." Armie knows both of them. Well.

"I want to try it" Tim insists.

I personally think he's nuts but let him continue.

"Okay, like, when a real toddler does it, it's either disturbing or funny. But I think, given the right circumstances, it could be kinda hot."

I give him my deer in the headlights look that is pure bullshit.

He knows something. And he knows I'm interested.

"Have you done this before, or have had it done?" He knows me well.

I nod.

"How was it?"

"Okay, I guess. Kinky. Sticky."

"Hot." He instists.

"Yeah. Hot."  
___

■  
___

Tim reclines on one elbow, his bare foot nudging my hand.

As if saying --

Kiss me.

Lick me.

Touch my sole and I will touch yours.  
___

Picking up his foot, I run my fingers between his toes, press my thumbs into the crevice at the ball of his foot.

He squirms when I do that.

I rotate my thumbs, pressing --

Harder.

Deeper.

He groans.

His reaction is not lost on me.

I want to play with him and give a quick peck to the top of his foot as I had done in the film. But the need to be more intimate washes over me and I bring it up to my mouth.

Licking the very tips of his toes which immediately stretch out, then curl under in arousal.

But I don't let it stop there.

My tongue snakes out to delve between his big toe and the one next.

Tim flops flat on the bed. His arms spread out in surrender.

I encircle the tip, the nail and then the entire toe.

My mouth sliding down. Encapsulating.

Sucking hard.

Like an adult pacifier.

It's not so bad, I think.

He's showered.

So having his foot, ripe from a day marinating in gym shoes will have to wait.

He cries out as I drag my teeth up to the top; probably glad it's not his cock.

He's getting aroused.

Hell, I'm definitely aroused.

"Hold on." Tim sits up, pulling his foot out of my grasp. "Let me do you."

I shrug. Doing me might be hot.

Okay definitely hot.

Tim sits up against the headboard as I lie in the opposite direction; thanking the gods that there's a footboard for support.

He grabs my leg hauling it over the other side of his body as he pulls his legs up, so I essentially straddle him. Laying down, his right leg on top, pinning my left into the bedding.

I'm helpless to resist. And why would I?

He brings my right foot to his chest, moving it around, rubbing my heel into his tits, making them hard. Making me hard.

I watch as he, in one motion, brings my instep up to his mouth, licking me heel to toes, while at the same time rubbing his foot with the saliva slimed toe onto my asshole.

Sneaky fucker.  
___

I squirm under his care, but I don't give a fuck how this looks.

It feels great. This double action he's got going on is stimulating, and arousing me all over.

I bite my lip as he draws particularly hard on my toe, like he's sucking tit. Or cock. But doesn't care if he's being too rough.

(He's not.)

He runs his teeth over the sensitive pad as my toe pops out.

Biting down.

Biting hard.

I try to pull away, but his foot, fuck, his toe is tunneling inside.

He pushes down, opening me wider.

And part of me wants him to shove his entire foot up there.

Anything to satisfy the want. The need.

His fingers press into the arch; his teeth worrying the pad.

Holy fuck it feels good!

My ass keeps grinding down on his toe. His foot.

Grinding.

Grinding.

And finally.

I'm there.  
___

■  
___

I immediately sit up. 《Okay it took a minute or four.》

But I get up; rolling myself to the top of the bed.

Kissing him hard.

Then taking him. Tim. Into my mouth.

Taking him completely.

No toe there. But man-meat. Cock.

Hard as they come.

Ready.

Fucking ready.

He fills me up. Nudging. Taking him deeper.

Tim.

Sucking. Suckling. Drawing him in.

Until he's there too.

The violence in his tremor becomes an eruption of great magnitude, over coming --

Everything.

No pacifier there. But still somehow pacifying.

In the End.

Or the Foot.

Or the Mouth.

Oh My.  
_____  
___

■ FIN - HOTEL 6.2 DON'T TREAD ON ME  
___


	3. 6.3 HOTEL DEL CHALAMET - FOOL ME ONCE - DON'T MOCK ME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie buys Tim a present he really doesn't want and the two of them set out to conquer Tim's trauma and destroy THE PUPPET FROM HELL.

_____  
___

Disclaimer: this is a fictional depiction of the two actors (and any other peripheral characters) mentioned within the following storyline.   
_____  
___

■ HOTEL 6.3 CASA DEL CHALAMET - DAY 3  
■ 6.3 FOOL ME ONCE - DON'T MOCK ME  
___  
_____

■ Timmy:  
______

"Sucking on random tits!" I laugh.

I love to mock Armie. He's just so fucking mockable! And he gets the joke. 

"I could have said random cocks, but I didn't want you to get jealous."

"And it wouldn't have been press appropriate." I remind him.

"When have I ever, as long as you've known me, been appropriate?"

"Well there is that." I concede. "So you suckled a goat. How was it?"

"Just yummy. And kinda hairy. Much like a ballsac I know."

"Hey! I groom!"

How did this suddenly become about me?

"You want to know how it really was?" Armie looks directly at me. "I just closed my eyes and thought of you."

"Aww, you say the sweetest things."

He does, he really does. Even when he's sucking goat tit, he's thinking of me!

"Milking a goat / milking your cock, not a whole lot of difference in technique."

And then he ruins it.  
___

■  
___

I love being back in New York, going out, wandering around, taking selfies with whomever asks. So we've gone and done our own thing for a couple of hours, and when I get back, I'm surprised to find Armie has been out as well.

But the surprise turns dark when I see what he's brought home.

Because I know it, even from behind. 

That horrible fake hair!

"Fallon let you borrow The Puppet from Hell?" 

"Borrowed it? I bought it!" Armie laughs holding up the one thing that still haunts me.

And I have to think he's wasted a shit-load of money.

Looking more closely at The Puppet from Hell, I can see that Armie has been more than busy this afternoon.

"What did you do?" I exclaim. Although I already know the answer.

"I made a couple of stops, some modifications if you will."

"I can see that." I really can't believe what I am seeing. "Where did you -."

"Sex shop." He's so fucking proud of himself. "I was aiming for realism."

"And more." 

I'm in awe, taking in the humungous dick sticking out of the dummy's pants.

"I thought we'd have a threesome." 

"I'm not letting that thing fuck me!"

"He's not going to fuck you. He's just here to watch."

"Let me clarify, I'm not going to fuck you. Or let you fuck me with that fucked up monstrosity watching. It's just too fucking creepy."

That's a lot of fucks. But FUCK!

"Wait and see, grasshopper, wait and see."

"Stop fucking calling me that!" I scream at him.

Armie leans forward, kissing me lightly on the lips. 

"Ignore IT, just concentrate on me, on what I'm doing."

His hand reaches down to my crotch, fingers tracing, cupping my bulge. Deftly undoing the buttons of my jeans. Freeing me.

And to say I spring out would be an interesting visual -- so let's go with that.

"Sit down." Armie guides me over to the office chair in the corner. 

He sets the dummy on the bed, propping it up against the pillows.

"Now I want you to watch my hand. Only my hand."

When he flicks the tip of the silicone dong, it's crafted so realistic it lightly bounces away.

And I feel it right down in my own cock.

He might have something here.

Armie opens the dummy's pants even further to show the impressive ballsac tucked into the lap of that hideous creature.

I keep telling myself, don't look at it's face. As if!

I watch as his hand encompasses the shaft, trying to concentrate on only the prosthetic, and I can feel it in my dick too.

"Mmmm." He murmurs. 

"Ahhhh." I groan as he slides his hand up and down.

My gaze never wavering from his fist. 

"It needs lube." Armie states.

And I watch as he puts his mouth over the head. Tongue flicking. Licking.

I squirm in my seat. 

He pulls back, mouth hovering.

Spit and saliva drizzling down the shaft.

I can feel his warm breath over me. 

It has me hot and bothered. 

My hands clutching the chair. Fingers like talons. 

Gripping. Gripping.

Holy fuckkkkkkkk!

His mouth slides down again.

Fucking talented he is. 

Next to no gag reflex.

He swallows around.

And I'm throbbing with arousal.

I want to touch myself but I know he doesn't want that.

He pulls up.

His lips sliding backward to the tip.

He looks over to me and smiles.

Oh my Gawddddd! I'm gasping like Anchise's fish.  
___ 

Armie sits up, the dong, massive and slippery with slime. And I watch as a streak of drool slides down towards his chin.

And I want to cum right there. 

His hand wraps around again.

And I can feel the tightness as he grips the shaft.

Tugging. Tugging.

Hand sliding up and down --

And around.

Ohhhhh.  
___

"You taste so good." He says, almost breaking the spell. Tongue snaking out to scape around both lips, and I know he's got that move from me.

"Don't cum yet." He tells me.

And it's not so easily done.

I'm almost there.

And I want to tell him -- 

But something tells me not to speak.  
___

His hand continues moving.

Playing with the silicone.

That lifeless beast.

Only I'm over here, and feeling --

Just --

Everything.

Watching his every movement that's connected to me.

His mouth moves back as his fingers run over the sac and when he swallows around -- 

Oh fuckkkkk -- 

AROUND.

My dick starts throbbing without so much as a touch, a tickle. My balls tighten up and I can feel Armie's fingers from all the way across the room.

And then --

I'm coming all over myself .. .. .. Ahhhhhhhh! 

My hands so tight on the arms of the chair as my whole body feels --

Fucking FEELS. IT.

The chair still heaving with the tremors rocking my body.

And Armie's mouth has never left the shaft!

His throat undulating. 

I watch him moving downward to take it all.

His lips are pressed to the very base, and I don't think I've ever seen anything like that.

And have felt everything right down to my core. 

All at the same time.  
___  
___

"How was that for you dear?" Armie smirks, tilting his head.

I don't think I can speak.   
_____  
___

■ Epilogue  
___  
_____

"What are we going to do about this thing?" Armie indicates the dummy.

"Fuck if I know." I really don't give a shit. 

I want to say, "Don't you want it?" But know better.

"We should kill it." He decides.  
___

So here we are on a beach that's somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It's pitch dark with no one is around to witness what we are about to do.

"Do you think that's the end of it?" I say, skeptical about the whole thing.

"It's not coming back." Armie is more certain.

"Okay." I nod, the brim of my cap low to cover my eyes, because they're saying something else entirely. 

"It's gone. Blown half to hell, never to return." He reassures.   
___

I don't ask Armie how he got his hands on the rocket. I don't ask him who he knew would sell such shit, because it's probably the same guy who magically produces his mind altering substances. In other words, don't piss off the dealer.  
___

"Scary Timmy sure was pretty, for a moment there." Armie laughs.

I nod again, yes it was a pretty sight. But I'm still not entirely convinced that the rocket strapped to The Puppet from Hell could take it so far into the ocean as it lit up the sky in an impressive stream of fire.

Perhaps never to be seen again.

Perhaps completely blown up (like Armie says).

Perhaps to wash up on the sand somewhere. 

Perhaps found by some curious beachgoers.

And perhaps one of them will wonder -- 

Why the fuck is a dummy that looks suspiciously like Timothee Chalamet -- 

Such a chared mess --

With a wooden hammer duct-taped up it's ass.   
___

And that's the fear that will keep me up at nights.  
___

■  
___

And so we lay there on my bed, spooned together, not wanting to let each other go. 

Not yet. 

"I had a dream." I whisper as Armie wraps his arms around me. "I dreamt .."

"Mmmm?"

"I dreamt I was in this room somewhere and I couldn't open the door. It was weird and surreal."

"You're here with me."

"I know. But people were --"

"What?" He's still half asleep.

"Teasing me."

"They love you. They wouldn't tease you." Armie kisses my neck.

"Yeah, that's your job."

"Fucking right." 

"The part in the helicopter was cool though."

"Helicopter?"

"Yeah."

"You have the most interesting dreams." Armie's body moves slightly.

He's still inside me. I feel all of him. His arms holding on. 

I get emotional at that, and I think of those words cried into his shoulder long ago in that attic room. 

"I don't want you to go." My voice breaks. 

No acting here.

"I know." He says, kissing my neck again. He feels so good. "But there's always another hotel room out there with our names on it."

"Not our actual names." I say. We're not fucking nuts.

"No. I wonder when a front desk clerk will wise up and get who Oliver Perlman really is?"

"They probably know." I'm sure they know.

"And they will try to wait with their camera's ready, but we're not new at this." Armie for one has made it his mission to, how does he put it, fly under the radar.

"We can't change it around; they never gave Oliver a last name."

"So it's Mr's Oliver Perlman for now."

"Suits me."

"Yeah, suits me too."  
_____  
_____  
___

😎 FIN - HOTEL 6.3 - CASA DEL CHALAMET - DON'T MOCK ME  
___  
_____

**Author's Note:**

> HOTEL SERIES Index  
> HOTEL Series are considered CHARMIE fiction 📌  
> ___
> 
> □ HOTEL SERIES  
> □ 1.0 London Layover  
> □ 2.0 A Massage to Remember  
> __
> 
> □ HOTEL SERIES 3  
> □3.1 MO-RE-AL Part  
> □ 3.2 MO-RE-AL Part  
> __
> 
> □ HOTEL SERIES 4.0 SUCCOR - The Man who won't be Bat  
> __
> 
> □ HOTEL SERIES 5.1 - 5.2 Cannes - Cannes Revisited  
> __
> 
> □ HOTEL SERIES 6.1 - 6.3  
> □ 6.1 CASA DEL CHALAMET  
> □ 6.2 CASA DEL CHALAMET - Don't Tread on Me   
> □ 6.3 CASA DEL CHALAMET - Fool Me Once - Don't Mock Me  
> __
> 
> 🏆The 0 Series is an Origin series that is told in a series of flashbacks  
> 🏆HOTEL 0 (1) Sundance - January 2017  
> 🏆HOTEL 0 (2) TIFF17-18-19  
> 🏆HOTEL 0 (3) Awards Season - The Oscars  
> ___
> 
> 🌴HOTEL 00 Series takes place in Hawaii - December 2019  
> 🌴HOTEL 00-1 Tis the Season - 1. Paradise  
> 🌴HOTEL 00-2 WATER  
> 🌴HOTEL 00-3 FIRE  
> 🌴HOTEL 00-4 AIR  
> 🌴HOTEL 00-5 VOID 1 -2  
> 🌴HOTEL 00-6 EARTH  
> ____
> 
> 🗽HOTEL 7 is part of the NYC Series taking place during the pandemic  
> 🗽HOTEL 7.1 (a) NY to London - NY Minute  
> 🗽HOTEL 7.1 (b) Minute by Minute - London to NY  
> 🗽HOTEL 7.2 (a) MOVING FORWARD - One Step Forward, Two Steps Back  
> 🗽HOTEL 7.2 (b) A Cop, A Pirate and a twink walk into a bar....  
> 🗽HOTEL 7.3 (a) Part 1 - PROUD   
> 🗽HOTEL 7.3 (b) Part 2 - PASSAGES   
> 🗽HOTEL 7.4 (a) Part 1 - PANACEA - One Raccoon, Two Raccoon  
> 🗽HOTEL 7.4 (b) Part 2 - PANACEA - Tabloid Shit-Storm  
> 🗽HOTEL 7.5 (a) Part 1 - Panic in the Streets - Eggs for Breakfast  
> 🗽HOTEL 7.5 (b) Part 2 - Pushing the Envelope - The Hell We've been Thrown into  
> ___
> 
> ■ HOTEL 8 - HOTEL California is currently a work in progress


End file.
